Theology in Baseball and Blockbusters

My colleagues (and friends), Tony Reinke and David Mathis, have authored two posts this week I absolutely love. Now, I think it’s excellent content. But even more than that, it’s what’s under the hood that encourages me most. It’s the way these posts give us a model for seeing the world. Tony is drawing deep truths about God’s wrath from a movie about superheros. David connects John Frame on the Christian life to Major League Baseball’s league-leading homerun hitter.

Check them out: Tony’s The Avenger and David’s Josh Hamilton, Relapse, and the Means of Grace.

On Election and Faithfulness

Deuteronomy 7:7–9,

It was not because you were more in number than any other people that the LORD set his love on you and chose you, for you were the fewest of all peoples,  but it is because the LORD loves you and is keeping the oath that he swore to your fathers, that the LORD has brought you out with a mighty hand and redeemed you from the house of slavery, from the hand of Pharaoh king of Egypt. Know therefore that the LORD your God is God, the faithful God who keeps covenant and steadfast love with those who love him and keep his commandments, to a thousand generations

The theology of election leads to the exhortation to know the very character of God. He is sovereign: loving whom he loves, having mercy on whom he wills — and he is not arbitrary. He acts in accordance to a standard, namely, himself. He is a God of covenant faithfulness.

This passage is a remarkable blending together of YHWH’s utter sovereignty and condescending relation to his people. He is sovereign enough to choose whom he wills, according to his own good pleasure, and yet he is guided by his own character such that he never acts outside of who he is. He is sovereign, in that he does whatever he pleases, and he is bound, in that he doesn’t contradict his character.

This is deeply rooted in the essence of the triune God, whose election is in reference to the Son (Ephesians 1:4). And the root of his election — his unconditional, because-he-is-God election — and his mind-boggling, mouth-shutting faithfulness is intrinsic to himself. It is in himself, “for he is content with his own secret good pleasure.”

How to Approach the Bible

The Bible comes from God; God doesn’t come from the Bible.

Our knowledge of God is a different story. What we know about God, definitively and redemptively, comes from the Bible. And that is, the Bible that comes from God, who himself comes from nothing.

These are the foundational pieces to understanding the doctrine of revelation, and therefore, the doctrine of Scripture. God, utterly independent and essentially revelatory, has made himself known. This is stunning. And it helps to read the Bible with it in view.

D. A. Carson writes,

To approach the Bible correctly it is important to know something of the God who stands behind it. God is both transcendent (i.e., he is “above” space and time) and personal. He is the sovereign and all-powerful Creator to whom the entire universe owes its existence, yet he is the God who graciously condescends to interact with human beings whom he has himself formed in his own image.

Because we are locked in time and space, God meets us here; he is the personal God who interacts with other persons, persons he has made to glorify him and to enjoy him forever. . . .

The point to emphasize is that a genuinely Christian understanding of the Bible presupposes the God of the Bible, a God who makes himself known in a wide diversity of ways so that human beings may know the purpose for which they were made — to know and love and worship God, and so delight in that relationship that God is glorified while they receive the matchless benefit of becoming all that God wants them to be.

“Approaching the Bible,” Collected Writings on Scripture, (Wheaton: Crossway, 2010), 19–21.

Read at DG.

What Seth Godin, John Piper, and Jesus Teach Us About the Mission of the Church

Seth Godin:

Fitzgerald nailed it when he described Jay Gatsby’s attitude: “What would be the use of doing great things if I could have a better time telling her what I was going to do?” It’s easy to fall so in love with the idea of starting that we never actually start. (Poke the Box75)

One of Godin’s goals in this little book is to expose the truth about failure — it’s not as bad as we all think.

And yet, the fear of failure is paralyzing. It’s the great deterrent to our starting things, to our taking risks. It is, as Godin explains, the dirt that buries us in the status quo program of the world around us.

Now, in my opinion, the biggest and simplest takeaway from reading Godin is how much more what he says applies to the Christian than to the secular professional.

Godin is brilliant in trying to convince his readers to step forward, to fly in the face of fear, to “start.”

And Jesus says this:

All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age. (Matthew 28:18–20)

Whatever it is caught in the brain storm of your starting, let it have this verb in its sights: make disciples.

Be about sharing the gospel and your very own self with people in order to present them mature in Christ (1 Thessalonians 2:8; Colossians 1:28).

Jesus has given us the commission, with all authority in heaven and earth. And he is always with us, always, with all authority in heaven and earth.

Pastor John writes,

When the threat of death becomes a door to paradise the final barrier to temporal risk is broken. When a Christian says from the heart, “To live is Christ and to die is gain,” he is free to love no matter what. . . . To every timid saint, wavering on the edge of some dangerous gospel venture, Jesus says, “Fear not, you can only be killed” (Luke 12:4). (A Call for Christian Risk)

How can we be afraid?

Go.

[Original post at Desiring God]

“The gates of Hades will prevail against every institution but one…”

Nice find by Josh Etter in the Piper archives.

Pastor John writes,

The church of Jesus Christ is the most important institution in the world. The assembly of the redeemed, the company of the saints, the children of God are more significant in world history than any other group, organization, or nation. The United States of America compares to the church of Jesus Christ like a speck of dust compares to the sun. The drama of international relations compares to the mission of the church like a kindergarten riddle compares to Hamlet or King Lear. And all pomp of May Day in Red Square and the pageantry of New Year’s in Pasadena fade into a formless grey against the splendor of the bride of Christ.

Take heed how you judge. Things are not what they seem. “All flesh is like grass. And all its glory like the flower of grass. The grass withers, and the flower falls, but the word of the Lord (and all his family) abide forever” (1 Peter 1:24–25). The media and all the powers, and authorities, and rulers, and stars that they present are a mirage. “For what is exalted among men is an abomination in the sight of God” (Luke 16:15). The gates of Hades, the powers of death, will prevail against every institution but one, the church.

Excerpted from The Cosmic Church (1981).

On God’s Utter Independence

Reading theology proper has a way of exposing our deficiencies in personal holiness.

I’ve been working my way through Scott Oliphint’s God With UsIt’s my favorite kind of book: all about God and thoroughly Christological (perfect for Advent reading). I love the doctrine of God’s aseity. I love how it blows our mental capacities, how we realize that we’re just standing on the seashore, that the ocean of the knowledge of God is only wetting our feet. God is greater than that which we can imagine. And then bigger than what we can’t imagine him to be.

It is so precious to feel his bigness, to be swallowed up by it, to close your eyes and weave together some special effects in your mind of what it looks like to be engulfed by the mystery of his fellowship, to be drawn into his communion, to consider the miracle of how we can know anything true about him.

And being immersed in this vastness affects how we think about personal holiness — namely, we realize the disparity between God and ourselves. We are more enthralled by this God to Whom (and by Whom) we have been reconciled. Little thoughts that may have gone unchecked are now rotten. There is an increasing impatience that the finished work of Jesus be more prevalent in the moments of our day. We want our union with Jesus to make more of a difference.

It’s an Isaiah 6 sort of thing. Not that we’re trying to merit a relationship. A God like that won’t be impressed with our unclean lips. We see him more clearly, we see ourselves in his light, and we’re stunned by the death and resurrection of Jesus all over again.

Suffering, Sovereignty, and God’s Goodness

In Evil and the Cross, Henri Blocher writes about the tension that exists for the Christian regarding the existence of evil:

The evil of evil, the lordship of the Lord, the goodness of God: these three immovable propositions stand together as the basis of biblical doctrine. We can picture them as a capital T: the sovereignty of God forms the stem, the two branches being the denunciation of evil and the praise of God in his goodness. But the great difficulty lies in holding all three together (100).

Blocher then considers the cross of Jesus Christ:

In the light of the cross, how could there be any doubt about the three propositions at the heart of the Christian position?

The sheer and utter evilness of evil is demonstrated there: as hatred in the mockery of the criminals who also hung there; as hateful in the weight of guilt which could be removed only by the sacrifice of the Lamb of God . . .

The complete sovereignty of God is demonstrated there: all this happened ‘by God’s set purpose and foreknowledge’ (Acts 2:23), for it was necessary that the Scriptures be fulfilled, those which bore witness to the destiny that the Lord had assigned to his Servant . . .

The unadulterated goodness of God is demonstrated there. At the cross, who would dare entertain the blasphemy of imagining that God would, even to the slightest degree, comply with evil? It brought him death, in the person of his Son. Holiness stands revealed. Love stands revealed, a pure love; there is no love greater. Because of the cross we shall praise his goodness, the goodness of his justice, the goodness of his grace, through all eternity (104, paragraphing mine).

Read the original post: Henri Blocher On the Cross: Evil, Lordship, and Goodness.

A Great Conversation With My Dad About Albert Pujols and Iran in the Suez Canal

((Ringing . . .))

Dad: Hello

Me: What is Cardinals nations going to do?

Dad: Look, if Pujols goes to another team, I am done with Major League Baseball.

Me: Come on, Dad. We were Cardinals before Pujols and we’ll be Cardinals after Pujols.

Dad: No, it’s not that. It’s what Major League Baseball is doing to the game. Who do these people think is paying the salaries? The insanity has to stop.

Me: Y—

Dad: Baseball used to be a common man’s game. The fans are paying for this. The fans can’t even afford to go to the games anymore. Pujols turns down 28 million dollars a year and there are many Americans out there who can’t even find a job. And 28 million a year is not enough for him. Really?

Me: Ri—

Dad: I’m done with it. I am going to straight college baseball. I am going back to  T-Ball. That’s my game now. That’s where it’s true.

Me: You’re right. I’m with you.

Dad: Yeah, well what we really need to be concerned about it what’s happening in Egypt. You know, Iran is provoking Israel by sailing some warships through the Suez Canal.

Me: Oh, really?

Dad: Yeah, a loaf of bread will cost a day’s wage.  Not to sound all doomsday or anything. But we’re not headed in a good direction.

((Pause))

Dad: We have to just trust in the Lord.

. . .

Divine Identity and Jeshurun

A couple observations from a fascinating bit in Deuteronomy and Isaiah.

Deut 32:39 “ ‘See now that I, even I, am he,
and there is no god beside me;
I kill and I make alive;
I wound and I heal;
and there is none that can deliver out of my hand.

Isa 45:5-7 I am the LORD, and there is no other,
besides me there is no God;
I equip you, though you do not know me,
that people may know, from the rising of the sun
and from the west, that there is none besides me;
I am the LORD, and there is no other.
I form light and create darkness,
I make well-being and create calamity,
I am the LORD, who does all these things.

There are some eye-opening similarities between Deuteronomy and Isaiah, in particular the Isaianic exodus (40-66). Two notable similarities are the assertion of the LORD’s unique, sovereign identity and the use of the name Jeshurun.

The entire section of Isaiah is loaded with references to the LORD’s unique identity as the one true God who is sovereign over all things. The text says this over and over, “besides me there is no other” and “besides me there is no god” . . .  “I am the LORD, and there is no other” (Isa 43:11; 44:6, 8; 45:5-6, 14, 18). These passages solidify the concept of Jewish monotheism that is pertinent to Deuteronomy, “the LORD our God, the LORD is one” (Deut. 6:4).

It’s also interesting to note the use of Jeshurun. “Thus says the LORD who made you, who formed you from the womb and will help you: Fear not, O Jacob my servant, Jeshurun whom I have chosen” (Isaiah 44:2). This name is only used elsewhere in Deuteronomy (Deut 32:15; 33:5, 26). This name for Israel also seems to suggest the uniqueness of her election, related to the LORD’s identity, and providing a basis for why Israel should not fear (a fascinating theme in Isaiah 40-66, Isa 40:9; 41:10, 13-14; 43:1, 5; 44:2, 8; 51:7, 13; 54:4, 14; 57:11; 59:19; 63:17).